


Tel que tu es

by PetitManu



Category: Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-04 23:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitManu/pseuds/PetitManu
Summary: Emmanuel is a 17-year-old student who develops feelings for his History teacher. Monsieur Valls gives his students a demanding assignment that Emmanuel wants to excel in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Emmanuel is 17 and Manuel is 32 in this story.

Monsieur Valls was Emmanuel’s most recent obsession. He had had crushes on teachers before, but it had never been that bad. Now as he was lying on his bed, the late summer heat making it impossible to breathe in his room with the windows closed, Emmanuel let the soft breeze brush over his naked body while he was touching himself gingerly, eyes closed, imagining it was his teacher’s hand on him instead.

His breath growing shallower with every passing second, Emmanuel thought of Monsieur Valls’ bare chest, the way his shirts hugged his body, the disapproving glance as he noticed his class misbehave. The last image made him laugh quietly to himself. He loved that frown so much. Emmanuel gave a couple more tugs until he came with a shudder. He would give anything for a night with him.

Anything to have Monsieur Valls all to himself.

*

“The following weeks we will be discussing Hérnan Cortés’ travels to Mexico. There will be an assignment for all of you, so you better pay close attention.”

Emmanuel looked up from his window seat in the second row.

“I expect all of you to participate and invest more time than usual into your school work.”

Emmanuel wondered how he could get Monsieur Valls’ attention. He seemed rather shy. Most people probably saw him as a slightly eccentric person with choleric tendencies. Yet Emmanuel felt there was more to Monsieur Valls than met the eye.

Maybe the assignment was his chance to shine. Emmanuel was among the best students, which meant that good grades came to him rather easily. He liked the work he had to do for most subjects – with the exception of mathematics. So this should be rather easy, shouldn’t it? History was one of his favourite subjects after all.

Yet he thought Monsieur Valls didn’t like him very much. There was nothing worse for Emmanuel than not being liked by someone, especially someone he fancied. There was not much you could do about that. But maybe his academic achievements were able to leave a lasting impression on his teacher and finally win him over.

What Emmanuel did not expect was that this assignment was going to turn into something much bigger than even he had anticipated.

The problem was: there were so many aspects to consider. Not only did he have to describe the circumpĺstances under which Cortés arrived in Mexico, but also the historical backdrop not only in Mexico but also the Spain of that time. Maybe he also needed to include a short paragraph – or even a chapter – on the Moorish influence in Cortés’ home country.

Obviously, he would need to talk about the Aztecs as well. And what about the many other conquests? Wouldn’t he have to briefly mention those, too?

*

“Emmanuel, this is far too much. I think it would be helpful if you focused on one major aspect alone,” Monsieur Valls commented as Emmanuel handed in his first draft the following week. Emmanuel had approached him after class, hoping to get some feedback from him.

“Okay...”

“I mean... you could write some more about the change he brought about after the conquest and how the indigenous population also benefited from that.”

“That’s true.”

Monsieur Valls handed the sheets back to Emmanuel.

“But don’t you think that your work might be too advanced?” He gave Emmanuel a meaningful look.

“Too advanced?” Emmanuel frowned. “I don’t understand. How can it be too advanced?”

Monsieur Valls patiently folded his hands. “I don’t expect you to do so much.”

“Is that good or bad?”

A sigh. “I just think you should maybe focus on your other school work. Monsieur Hollande told me you are struggling with calculus at the moment?”

Emmanuel blushed and looked down at his feet. “Okay. Yeah. I find it quite challenging.”

“That’s not to say I don’t find the work you’ve done here quite impressive.”

“Really?” Emmanuel flashed a bright smile.

“Yeah, just don’t forget your other subjects.”

Emmanuel’s heart felt so full he could have kissed his teacher on the spot. But he held back.

“Thank you, Monsieur.”

This was the first time Emmanuel had seen his teacher openly smile at him. He told Monsieur Valls goodbye and left the classroom. He was ready for the weekend.

*

Emmanuel couldn’t focus on the book he was reading. His mind kept going back to the conversation he had had with his teacher the day before. How surprised Monsieur Valls had seemed that Emmanuel would invest so much work in his assignment. How warm he suddenly seemed, as if he hadn’t noticed Emmanuel before.

Emmanuel sighed and placed _L’Étranger_ on his night stand. His hand sneaked inside his pants, like it usually did every night since he had started fantasizing about his teacher. It was the only way to relieve the pressure. What was he even thinking. He knew Monsieur Valls was happily married and had a 3-year-old son. There was no way there was ever going to be something between them.

But he craved to be touched. He wanted nothing more than a gentle hand caressing his face, a warm voice whispering into his ear, a soft body wrapped around him. Or maybe, just maybe, a warm mouth breathing against him, in between his legs.

Emmanuel was moving his hand a little faster, increasing the pressure of his grip, his hips wriggling helplessly, arching into his touch. He was moaning softly, trying to drown out the sound with the back of his left hand, as he released himself all over his stomach.

“Fuck...” he groaned quietly and tried to get everything off his shirt. He felt disgusted by himself as he was wiping at the fabric. Other boys his age had already experimented with girls, even been in relationships, but Emmanuel had never been interested in that. He really needed someone who could make him feel safe. And now that he was determined to make his History teacher fall for him, he was starting to believe he could find someone who was right for him.

He had spent the whole day on his assignment, but hadn’t got as much work done as he had wanted. Monsieur Valls was just too great a distraction.

Lying back down, Emmanuel tried to imagine what kissing his teacher would feel like. Would it feel awkward? Would he like it? Would they try using tongue? The thought made Emmanuel grin. He would really like trying that with Monsieur Valls.

He was sure that Monsieur Valls would be very passionate. Hidden below his irritability and his condescension Emmanuel expected a very different kind of man. A man that would make you swoon, make you forget about everything else, that would sweep you off your feet. And that was only the kisses Emmanuel tried to picture in his mind.

In his most desperate moments, when the longing for his teacher became unbearable, Emmanuel thought about sex. But it wasn’t the kind of thoughts that confused him. Emmanuel knew what he wanted. It was the kind of thoughts that would make him feel breathless because he could so vividly picture his teacher running his hands all over his body, making the hairs on the back of Emmanuel’s neck stand up. It was the kind of thoughts that made him realize he wanted more than a brief physical encounter. It were thoughts that would seep into his mind at night and that would surprise him in the mornings.

Emmanuel needed to find a way to seduce his teacher because this was what he wanted to do. He wanted to discover his teacher’s weaknesses, to confuse him, to make him want him.

*

On Monday morning, they continued discussing their assignment. Emmanuel was too busy watching the movement of Monsieur Valls’ lips than to pay attention to what was being said. As they moved onto the topic of Aztec history, Emmanuel doodled Monsieur Valls’ face inside his notebook. It was only when the whole class went silent that Emmanuel noticed his teacher had asked him a question.

“Monsieur?”

“Emmanuel, you could actually share your knowledge here, but apparently you have more important business going on...”

Emmanuel blushed furiously.

“Now if you like, you can lend me one of your ears...”

Trying to calm himself down, Emmanuel desperately tried to focus. He lost it when Monsieur Valls turned towards the blackboard and revealed his rather firm bum that fit so nicely in that day’s pants. Gripping his pen a little harder, Emmanuel desperately tried not to think about what he would like to do with that part of his teacher’s body, but he already felt himself losing to his physical need.

“Monsieur Macron, is there something you would like to contribute?”

Emmanuel thought of something to say, but only managed to get out, “Not at the moment, Manuel.”

Only realising a moment later what he had said, Emmanuel saw Monsieur Valls’ face grow red.

“Out,” he said very calmly, but Emmanuel knew this only happened before one of his teacher’s infamous outbursts.

As Monsieur Valls called him back in after class, Emmanuel felt too embarrassed to look at his classmates.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you better figure out your personal issues. You may not realize how important it is that you don’t interrupt my lessons, but...”

“Yes, I’m really sorry, Monsieur Valls. I don’t know what has gotten into...”

“Ah! You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry.”

Emmanuel blushed again.

“You are one of my best students, so I don’t know what the issue is, but if there is something you want to tell me...”

“No. Nothing,” Emmanuel said a little too quickly.

“Okay.” Monsieur Valls didn’t look too convinced. “But in case you want to talk to me... please do so.”

“Yes, of course, Monsieur Valls.”

*

The idea came to him as he was trying to practice some calculus in the evening. Maybe he could spend some time with Monsieur Valls by asking for help. Maybe he could convince his teacher that he needed some advice on the passage detailing Aztec history. If he was clever, he would come up with too many questions to be answered after school.

But was it going to work? It seemed a strange plan to Emmanuel, but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice. The rest of the day was spent on a list of questions he could work through, which proved to be easier than expected.

And so, starting Tuesday fresh and full of inspiration, Emmanuel couldn’t wait to present his questions to his teacher after class.

*

“So, Emmanuel, you asked to speak with me?”

“Yes, Monsieur Valls,” Emmanuel muttered, hoping his teacher wouldn’t notice the blood flowing to his cheeks. “I... I found my work on the Cortés assignment more challenging than I expected it to be.”

Monsieur Valls smiled softly. “Well, I warned you...”

“I was wondering... is there... is there a way you could help me?”  
Afraid to look at his teacher, Emmanuel did it anyway. He was waiting for Monsieur Valls to reject him.

“Well, is there something you had in mind?”

“Oh.” Emmanuel felt hot with embarrassment. “Yes, of course. There were a couple of questions that came up when I continued working on the paper.”

Monsieur Valls didn’t show any kind of reaction. Emmanuel handed him the list of questions.

“Hm... those are all very interesting. But... I would need some time to consider it. Maybe... would it be okay if I took this with me?”

Emmanuel nodded.

“I’ll have a look at them and give them back to you by the end of the day. Okay?”

“Yes.”

Emmanuel couldn’t believe his luck.

*

“This one was very intriguing. How Cortés compares to other conquerors. You really put a lot of work into this.”

Emmanuel pretended he was listening, but really was staring at Monsieur Valls’ lips as he spoke. How he longed to feel this beautiful mouth on his skin, to run his hands over it. To let Monsieur Valls make him forget everything else.

“Did you ever consider writing something longer?”

“What?”

“I think you’d find it rewarding. A longer paper, a book even?”

Emmanuel was blushing so hard it embarrassed him.

“I... I don’t know...”

“You seem to have a talent for it.”

“Thank you, Monsieur.”

“Please, stop that. No need to thank me.”

Emmanuel folded his hands on the table between them. He was craving Monsieur Valls’ touch, a squeeze of his hand, anything. Monsieur Valls was already preparing to leave. Emmanuel had to do something.

“Monsieur Valls?”

“Yes?”

Feeling his teacher’s eyes on him, Emmanuel blurted out, “Maybe we can discuss the questions some more?”

No reaction.

“You said I could also write something longer? But I’d need some help with that...”

“Oh.” Monsieur Valls’ face broke into a smile. “Yes. Of course. I’d love to help.”

“Great. Okay. Yeah.” Emmanuel tried to hide his wide grin.

“Friday maybe?”

Emmanuel stared at him for a moment. “Um. Yes. Friday sounds... good.”

*

Clearly, the following three days felt like hell to Emmanuel.

Thursday night, Emmanuel could barely sleep. He was trying to tell himself that it was nothing special, that Monsieur Valls was going to help him and then it would be done. Over. A year from now he would be graduating and move to Paris for university. He might never see his teacher again.

His nerves got so bad that Emmanuel started crying out of frustration. Why had he fallen so bad for someone he couldn’t have?

After class the following day, Monsieur Valls was already waiting for Emmanuel by his car. Emmanuel felt like he was going on a date. A ridiculous thought obviously. This was strictly professional.

As he sat down in the car, Emmanuel realized that he had been wrong. So wrong. Who was he kidding?! The mere proximity of his teacher made the hairs on his back stand up. He wanted him. He wanted him like he had never wanted anyone before.

“All set?”

“Yeah.”

They passed the drive in relative silence. Monsieur Valls tried to engage Emmanuel in some small talk but probably realized that there was something on Emmanuel’s mind, so he let him be. They pulled up near his house fifteen minutes later.

*

“Want something to drink?”

Emmanuel nodded.

“Water? Juice?” Monsieur Valls lifted his eyebrow.

Emmanuel felt daring. “Water is fine...”

Monsieur Valls disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of water. Emmanuel thanked him and took a sip from his glass.

 

Five minutes later they were already discussing Emmanuel’s work on Cortés.

Monsieur Valls was sitting very close to Emmanuel on the couch, his arm behind Emmanuel’s back, lying on the rest. Emmanuel’s body was tingling with excitement. But he still managed to pay attention. That is until Monsieur Valls accidentally brushed over his hand.

“Unless you have anything else to discuss, this should be it.”

Emmanuel was staring at his hands.

“Emmanuel?”

Looking into his teacher’s eyes, Emmanuel briefly touched Monsieur Valls’ hand. Since he seemed to show no reaction, Emmanuel moved his hand onto Monsieur Valls’ neck, pulling him closer.

“What are you doing?” Monsieur Valls breathed.

Emmanuel took all his courage and pressed his lips against Monsieur Valls’ mouth. His teacher was too shocked to react. For a split second, Emmanuel felt Monsieur Valls leaning closer towards him, humming against his mouth. Then...

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Monsieur Valls pushed him away.

“What the fuck, Emmanuel?! I’m your teacher!”

Emmanuel’s heart was beating quickly in his chest. What had he done?!

“I need you to leave. Now.”

“Okay,” Emmanuel breathed, still feeling too disoriented to get up.

“This should never have happened.”

“I’m really sorry,” Emmanuel stammered, too afraid to look at his teacher.

“I don’t know whether this is some kind of joke, but go. Now.”

“Yes.”

Emmanuel walked out of the house as if in a trance and then walked all the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmanuel is trying to cope after he came onto his teacher. One thing is sure: his life will never be the same again.

In the silence of his own room, Emmanuel fell apart. He was stifling his sobs in his pillow, but he couldn’t make himself feel less as his heart was breaking. How could he do something so stupid? There was no way Monsieur Valls was ever going to trust him again.

Emmanuel clung to his pillow and hoped he would never have to go to school again. The holidays were going to start soon, but he would have to see Monsieur Valls for the whole year after that. He hadn’t thought this through.

He hated himself for his feelings. He knew his life could be so much easier if he just wanted to be with the right people. People more appropriate for someone his age. Not his History teacher.

Falling asleep after all, Emmanuel didn’t wake until 10 the next morning. He woke with that same feeling of distress, the same kind of longing that he had to suppress in order to get through his day.

“Manu, are you okay?” his mother asked at the breakfast table, gently taking his face in her hands.

Emmanuel sighed and looked at his fingers. He felt embarrassed.

“What is wrong, sweetheart?”

Emmanuel felt the eyes of everyone on him. His sister was the only one who pretended everything was as usual.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

His mother didn’t seem convinced but left it at that.

While his brother and sister went out with friends, Emmanuel retreated back to his room and tried to read. He gave up soon enough as his thoughts kept travelling back to his teacher.

He went back to bed and stared into space.

After a while, his mother knocked on his door.

“Manu?”

Turning his face to the wall, Emmanuel pretended to be asleep.

“Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Emmanuel shook his head.

Combing through his hair, his mother sat by his side. Emmanuel wished he would never have to leave his room and could wait for his death as life continued outside.

“Is this someone I know?”

Emmanuel bit his lip. “No.”

“I think you need a distraction. You need to get out of your room.”

Emmanuel felt a tear rolling down his face.

“I think I made a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“I think I opened up to the wrong person.”

“You know... sometimes these things take time.”

Emmanuel choked down a sob. “No. Not this.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Emmanuel muttered, “It can’t work out.”

* ** __** __

Emmanuel barely made it to school on Monday. Their History class didn’t take place as usual. Emmanuel had never felt this guilty in his life before – this was definitely his fault. But he couldn’t tell anyone.

Who would be able to help him? He surely couldn’t tell his parents. His sister? It just didn’t seem like anything someone else would understand. Unless.

*

“I know you liked it.”

Emmanuel was standing on Monsieur Valls’ doorstep in the late afternoon. His teacher blocked the way inside his house and watched him suspiciously.

“This isn’t just in my head. You hesitated. That must mean something, right?”

Monsieur Valls shook his head. “This can’t happen. You are my student.”

Emmanuel briefly touched his arm, but felt Monsieur Valls force him back.

“No.” He sounded resolute, very sure.

“I wish you would listen to me.”

“Oh God, Emmanuel,” Monsieur Valls groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen. You need to forget this.”

Emmanuel felt like crying again. “I really like you.”

“Stop.”

“Please.”

“Go home, Emmanuel.”

Monsieur Valls was about to turn back inside. Emmanuel quickly grabbed his arm and stepped closer towards him, almost leaning against his body. As he looked into his teacher’s eyes, Emmanuel didn’t see anger or irritation but a soft expression. He had never seen Monsieur Valls this gentle before.

Before the moment could pass, Emmanuel pushed him against the doorframe and pushed his tongue down his throat. This time, Monsieur Valls let Emmanuel. Emmanuel felt Monsieur Valls’ hands on his hips, the warmth of his mouth, the pleasant pressure of his pelvis as he was pushing against him.

“We have to stop,” Monsieur Valls whispered as he pulled away.

Emmanuel was still in a haze, leaning against the doorframe on the other side.

“Emmanuel, this is not a good idea.”

“I want to be with you.”

“That won’t happen.”

“I really like you,” Emmanuel said softly and traced a vein on his teacher’s neck.

“Emmanuel, you know I can’t.”

*

Their lessons were considerably more awkward after the events of that Friday evening. Emmanuel hadn’t approached Monsieur Valls again and handed in his coursework like everyone else.

The day they got their results, Emmanuel was waiting to be called up to the front but only after all his classmates got their feedback, Monsieur Valls called his name. There was no one else left in the room.

“How was it?”

Monsieur Valls paused and looked into Emmanuel’s eyes for a moment. “It was excellent.”

“Great.” Emmanuel beamed and took the sheets from Monsieur Valls.

“About the book idea...”

“I’m not sure I should focus that much on it.”

“You can still write it. Maybe over the summer?”

Emmanuel felt his heart jump in his chest. “Um, I don’t know...”

“I could help you out.”

Emmanuel blushed and avoided his eyes. “No, I... I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Emmanuel.” Monsieur Valls briefly touched his hand. “I know you really enjoyed working on the assignment.

“You said it’ll never happen and I respect that. I don’t want to get you into any trouble...”

His teacher laughed. “You won’t get me into any trouble.” Monsieur Valls ruffled Emmanuel’s hair. Emmanuel knew it was supposed to be a playful gesture but instead he found it to be quite arousing.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re still so young.”

“I like you a lot, Monsieur.”

Monsieur Valls got up from his chair and moved his mouth closer to Emmanuel’s ear, “You can call me Manuel.”

“Kiss me. Please.”

Emmanuel stood there, hoping, waiting. As Monsieur Valls moved his face closer, a bare inch from Emmanuel’s, Emmanuel could feel his teacher’s breath on his skin.

“Manuel...”

Emmanuel gasped as Manuel pushed him against his desk, lips on his neck, hips connecting desperately.

“I think about you a lot.”

Emmanuel wrapped a hand around Manuel’s lower back before pushing it inside his jeans. Manuel forced him even closer against his desk, hands exploring Emmanuel’s arms, back, legs.

“I think about your body.”

“God, Emmanuel. Stop.”

Manuel retreated and wiped a hand across his face. “Fuck, what am I doing here...”

“I should go.”

“Do you want to come over on Saturday?”

*

Waiting nervously on Manuel’s doorstep, Emmanuel reconsidered his decision to agree to meet again. He knew what had happened the last two times he was at Manuel’s house and their encounter after class hadn’t exactly made things easier. He could still go back home. Try to forget how much he liked him. Just wait for the holidays to come.

“Hi.” Manuel seemed very quiet. He smiled softly as he looked into Emmanuel’s eyes. “Come in.”

Emmanuel tried to keep the situation in control. He told himself that they only wanted to discuss the book. Nothing more.

As Manuel led Emmanuel inside, a hand on his shoulder, Emmanuel felt flush and excited. Maybe he could still talk himself out of it. But what if he wanted something more?

“Would you like a drink?”

Emmanuel avoided Manuel’s eyes as he replied. “Just water.”

Settling down at the couch table, they tried discussing some basic ideas, ideas for chapters, which things were not as important. Emmanuel succeeded at keeping it casual, never straying off topic. But as soon as they were done, Emmanuel’s desire returned.

“That went well.” Manuel smiled. “So... you feel like another drink or do you want to go home?”

Emmanuel knew he should decline, say that it was already late, that he had to do homework. Yet he needed to set things straight between them. As Manuel returned with the drinks, Emmanuel spontaneously grabbed Manuel’s glass of red wine and downed it in one go.

“Emmanuel!”

“Sorry.”

Manuel sat back down and watched Emmanuel suspiciously.

“Can I touch you?”

Manuel looked concerned but allowed Emmanuel to slip a hand under his shirt. He seemed to be unaffected, his expression unchanged. Rubbing his palm over Manuel’s hip, Emmanuel moved a little closer, pulling a leg onto the couch with him.

“Emmanuel...”

“You’re so gorgeous...”

Manuel gasped as Emmanuel moved in between his legs, unbuckling his belt and settling in his lap.

“We need to stop.”

“I think you really want this,” Emmanuel whispered and started rocking forwards.

*

They were sitting in Manuel’s bed, hands entwined, placing kisses onto each other’s faces, necks, arms. Emmanuel felt very dizzy already.

“Are you sure about this?”

Emmanuel groaned as Manuel clasped his shoulders.

“Yes.”

Emmanuel giggled as Manuel pulled his face closer. They kissed for a moment, hands buried in the other’s hair, until Manuel rolled Emmanuel onto his back. He pulled Emmanuel’s t-shirt off and threw it onto the floor.

Manuel proceeded by licking along the trail of hair descending from Emmanuel’s navel. Gasping at the little kisses, the slight suction of Manuel’s lips on his skin, Emmanuel felt his pants getting a little too tight.

“Are you really sure you want this?”

Emmanuel threaded his right hand through Manuel’s hair and gazed at his flushed face in adoration.

“Yes.”

“Tell me when you want to stop.”

Emmanuel nodded. He was arching into Manuel’s touch instantly, hips desperate to connect with Manuel’s body.

“Yes...” he sighed as Manuel was unzipping his pants. His nerves were on edge and his need too strong for his doubts to resurface.

“God...”

“Emmanuel. I have to ask again: Is this what you want?”

Emmanuel cried out as Manuel’s hand cupped his erection through his briefs.

“Yes! Yes! Please touch me!”

As Emmanuel was lying naked on his back, he watched Manuel getting out of his clothes. He seemed even more nervous than Emmanuel felt. His eyes finally allowed themselves to meet Emmanuel’s gaze and as he saw the naked fear in them, Emmanuel pulled him closer by his shoulders and kissed him once more.

“Tell me what to do.”

Manuel bit his lip as he had rolled onto his back. “Put your fingers inside of me.”

Emmanuel followed his plea and was probing carefully. Watching his teacher writhe in pleasure, Emmanuel was pushing even deeper.

“Fuck, Emmanuel...”

“Is that good?”

Manuel cried out as Emmanuel pushed his fingers in all the way.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

“Is that...”

“Fuck me, Emmanuel! God... Just...” Manuel wrapped his legs around Emmanuel’s waist. “Please...”

Emmanuel was not sure how to proceed, but the look on Manuel’s face told him that it didn’t matter as long as he kept going. As he was pushing inside, Emmanuel couldn’t suppress a moan that grabbed his whole body.

“You feel incredible, Emmanuel.”

Sighing softly, Emmanuel slowly moved inside of him, pushing carefully. Manuel felt warm and soft.

“Are you good?”

Emmanuel whimpered. “I’m really close.”

“Easy...” Manuel slowly pulled away and grabbed Emmanuel’s hips very tightly. “Take your time.”

“Oh God.”

“Easy...”

Emmanuel was banging Manuel deep into the mattress.

“Fuck.” Manuel grabbed the headboard as Emmanuel was pushing even deeper. “Fuck. Yes.”

“Oh shit,” Emmanuel cried out and came while he was still inside of Manuel below.

“God, you’re perfect.” Manuel brushed away some hair from Emmanuel’s forehead as he was still coming down. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

Manuel pulled Emmanuel into his arms and brushed a hand through his hair. Emmanuel sighed and leaned back in the embrace, hoping it could last forever.

“Did you enjoy this?”

“It was really good.”

“Good.”

Soon after, Emmanuel had fallen asleep.


End file.
